The Reborned
by kerizendaya
Summary: This story starts off where Jacob sees Renesmee for the first time in Breaking Dawn. Renesmee tries to fulfill her true destiny in order to save her little brother from an eternal life of servitude to an evil vampire ruler.
1. Chapter 1

Renesmee tries to fulfill her true destiny in order to save her little brother from an eternal life of servitude with an evil vampire ruler.

POV Jacob Black

I had come back after arguing with Edward about Bella. He all of a sudden wanted to turn her into a vampire in order to save her, said it was the only way she'd survive. I was pissed and I stormed out. Now, I'm back and cooled off. Rosalie's back is to the window and she's rocking something in her arms. I step inside the house. Rosalie turns around, but she's so focused on the baby that she doesn't look up.

"How's Bella doing?" I ask her.

"She's dying," Rosalie says, with a warm smile for the child. My blood boils. It's when I realize this witch couldn't care less if Bella lives or dies, something I suspected ever since Bella came back pregnant. I stare at the baby and I'm filled with rage, thinking about what Bella went through, what she's going through. Now, she'll either die or be turned into a vampire. Either way, I still lose her. I feel tremors throughout my body. I am shaking. I'm so mad, I jump up in the air and extend out my left leg. I finally have Rosalie's full attention and she looks up surprised. My foot grazes her chin, and her head spins to the right. She's so shocked, she drops the baby. I swoop down and catch her before she hits the floor. Renesmee lets out a loud screaming cry. Rosalie screams like a banshee. I dash towards the door. She's in front of it in a second and she closes it.

"Put… her… down," Rosalie says, scowling.

"Get the hell out of my way," I warn. She doesn't move or respond. She's waiting on me to obey her. Arrogant witch! I lift my foot and kick her hard in the stomach. She bends down and I maneuver around her, open the door, and leave. Seth and Leah are outside the Cullen house, staring wildly at the baby in my arms. "Leah, take the kid to LaPush. Tell Sam, it's starting," I order.

"What's starting?" she demands.

"A war," I respond. "She looks unsure and worried.

"Jake…"

"Do it!" I order. I hand off the baby to Leah and she takes off running. Seth is unhappy, but he's powerless. "What are you looking at, traitor?" He shakes it head, scared. "Go home. Even though I'm angry with you, I don't want anything to happen to you. Go home, Seth." He turns on his heel and disappears. "This ends now." I step back inside the house. And my head falls back as I am suddenly kicked under the chin. I stumble, but I don't fall. I look around quickly to see who done it. Rosalie.

"You'll pay for this, dog," she says. I charge her with all my might. Crashing into her, we fall on top of the lamp and it crashes into the floor and its light blows. The coffee table also goes down, smashed like a pancake on the pretty carpet. I'm on top of Rosalie and I pull back my fist and let her have it, repeatedly. She's pretty slow for a vampire. She can't stop my lightening fast blows to her face. I stop momentarily to admire my artwork. I grin at all the cracks and dents I made on the ever so vain Rosalie. I laugh.

"Haha! You look like crap!" I say. She is really mad, now. She pounds my chest with both fists, and I go flying in the air. I land on the sofa and roll onto the floor. I shake it off and get to my feet. "Bring it, bloodsucker!"

"It's been brought." She charges me with her mouth open, planning to bite. I buck my eyes, slightly shaken. I move quickly out of her line of attack, and she runs through the kitchen and slides over the counter, unable to stop fast enough. Pots and pans make a loud disturbance. I head up the stairs, but Rosalie is suddenly on my back, weighing me down.

"Get off me!" I yell.

"Tonight, you die, dog!" I head butt her with the back of my skull. She is stunned and slumps down the stairs, unconscious. My brain rattles around inside my head. And I fear blacking out. I turn around and take Rosalie up by her shoulders and I bang her head against the wall of the stairs, repeatedly until I see blood oozing out of the back of her head. She is dead. _Fatality!_

I leave her there bleeding out red on the champaign colored carpet of the staircase. Who's next? I hear distinct howling in the distance. Sam, Paul, Embry, Collin, Brady, and Jared are here. But, I might not need their help. I look up and see Edward looking at me from the top of the staircase. His clothing and face are stained with Bella's blood. He doesn't react to Rosalie's dead body on the stairs. He is fixated on me.

"You took away the only girl I ever loved," I say, between gritted teeth.

"You're 16, Jacob. You've got time to find another poor, unsuspecting girl to follow around," he says, with a flat voice.

"You son of a bitch!" I charge him. But, it's like charging a stone wall. He is unmoved. I look up at his face, uncertain. With the palm of his hand, he smacks my left cheek hard. And I dizzily tumble down to the bottom of the staircase. The foundation of the house is shaking, as if a strong earthquake is upon us. Edward runs down the stairs while I'm distracted by all the shaking. I let him get close enough, then I poke my fingers into his eyes. He screams out in pain. And his eyes bleed red.

"My eyes!" he shouts. I found a weak spot. _Success!_ He falls to his knees nursing his face. Giant, hairy paws with sharp nails rip into the walls of the house, tearing it open. The floorboards come apart right under my feet. I walk up to Edward while he's whimpering on his knees and I rip his head clean off. I must see Bella one last time. I find her in a room that's been transformed into a hospital room. Blood is pumping into her body from an IV bag. Disgusting. And she looks terrible. She chokes on her own blood and I nearly have a heart attack. Esme, Alice and Emmett, who are crowded around her, look up and see me. "Where's the doctor?" I ask.

"He stepped out to get more blood," Alice answers.

"Your house is being torn to shreds. Don't you give a fuck?"

"We can always get another one," Alice says. "Where's Rose?" I don't hesitate.

"She's dead. I killed her." They all stare at me, mortified.

"Where's the baby?" Esme asks, furious.

"LaPush," I answer. Then, three angry vampires fly towards me like bats straight out of hell. Alice is the closest and so I jam my hand through her chest and pull out her black heart. It crumples to ashes between my fingers. The lights go out and someone grabs me. I scurry out of Emmett's grip, not letting any vampire hold me for too long. The roof is pulled straight off the house and we all look up at giant werewolves with snarling incisors. I head for the shaking stairs, but someone pulls me up by my shirt. I punch at the air, not yet realizing its Paul's wolf. He sets me down on the ground away from the house and turns to go back. "Don't hurt Bella!" I shout. He stops and looks at me. Then, he leaves me.

My heart is pumping major fast. I know the vampires are about to be done like steak fresh off the grill. I race to LaPush to see what's going on with the baby, to see if they've really killed it or not yet. As I approach the LaPush sign, I phase back to my human form and enter the reservation. The air is thick with a certain sickness- Fear. I use my super strong sense of smell to find the half vampire baby. It leads me to White Wolf Jackson, a local shaman. Urgently, I step inside her house without knocking or asking for permission. White Wolf is sitting on the wooden floor with the baby before her. They are surrounded by white candles. The baby has been wrapped in a white blanket that has a pattern of pink hearts. White Wolf looks up, her silvery white hair flowing over her shoulders like water down a waterfall.

"Hello, Jacob," she says with a slight smile. I crouch.

"What are you doing? Get away from her, she's dangerous!"

"She is only a baby. She cannot hurt me." WhiteWolf places her hand above the baby's head and touches her forehead with her index finger.

"You haven't answered my question."

"I am blessing this child with the light of the White Mother, Isis," she responds with her eyes closed, concentrating hard.

"She's half vampire. She's evil."

"She won't be for long."

"How did you get her?"

"The people brought her to me. They fear her, but they want her to be saved. She has a destiny to fulfill." The old woman grins.

"What are you talking about, lady?" I'm getting frustrated.

"Time will tell." The baby is cooing and talking baby nonsense. I get closer and notice her eyes are just like Bella's. I sigh.

"Hand her over," I demand. White Wolf looks at me, expressionless.

"No."

"I am Alpha. You are to obey my orders."

"Power has distorted your mind, young man. You are not my Alpha. And you are not getting this child. Only the mother will receive her."

"Her mother is dead."

"Really?" she smirks. The way she says that makes me question what I think I know. She catches my eyes and I am suddenly entranced by her stare. "Go home, Jacob. Get some rest. In the morning, things will be better." I wake up the next morning in my bedroom. Thoughts of last night, racing through my mind, I hop up and hurriedly get dressed. I don't even speak to Dad when I pass him in the kitchen. I get to Sam's house and bang on the door. "Sam!" I hollar. He opens up on the millionth knock.

"Hi, Jake. I thought you'd come by." He opens the door all the way, and I am stunned by who I see sitting at the table. Bella is sitting at the table with the baby in her arms. She looks up at me.

"Hi, Jake." As if nothing has changed, as if the last two months had never even happened.

"How did you…." I ponder out loud.

"They spared me," she says, looking up at Sam with thankful eyes.

"Are you…"

"A vampire? No. The wolf pack brought me here last night. When the shaman brought me my baby, she healed me with some ancient herbs. I'm fine," she says. I wanted to ask about her bloodsucker friends. I knew the truth, but I wanted to know what she thought about it.

"You're vampire friends –"

"They're all dead," she says, looking right through me with a blank stare. "You got what you wanted."

"Not exactly," I respond. "The important thing is that you're alright. Maybe, later we can talk."

"You destroyed my future. You are the last person I should be talking to," she said, without looking up from the baby. Her words pierced me like a knife through the heart. "But, I forgive you. So, maybe later, when I'm feeling stronger, we can talk." I sigh, relieved to hear that. She doesn't look happy. And I wonder, for the first time ever, if I did the right thing.


	2. Chapter 2

Part 2 Love Can Make You Do… Crazy Things POV Bella

"So, you're still human," Jacob asks.

"Yes. I'm tired, Jake. And I need to feed Renesmee. I need some privacy," I say. Just then, Emily walks over with a warm bottle she has made for Renesmee on the stove top. I get it from her. "Thank you." Emily smiles. I put the bottle into Renesmee's mouth and watch her , I get up from the table. Everyone is watching me. I go outside on the back porch. There, I let myself go. The tears fall and I get a lump in my tight throat. Edward is gone. He is dead. And I will never ever see him, again. All I have to remember him by is Renesmee. My tears fall on her. Renesmee pokes her tongue out around the nipple and vomits. I am immediately concerned. She starts to cry, next. Not knowing what to do, I take her inside to Emily. "She won't eat," I complain to her.

"Let me try." Emily gently removes Renesmee from my arms and tries to give her the bottle herself. The baby pushes the nipple away with her tongue. Emily tries again. This time, Renesmee won't even open her mouth.

"What's wrong with her? Is she sick?" I ask. Emily looks over at me.

"I don't know. She's not hungry, it seems. Let's try again, later." Later, rolls around and she still won't eat. I lock myself in Emily and Sam's spare bedroom and attempt to breastfeed Renesmee. I feel better now that she seems to be enjoying it. She just wanted my milk all along.

"Ouch!" I cry out. She nipped me. How is that possible, when she has no teeth, yet? I have to pry her off my body, as she has latched on tight. I set her down and examine myself. I touch my hand to my left breast and see blood on my finger. I stare at it, immobile and horrified. She was drinking my blood. I decided to keep this to myself. No need to get everyone on edge. Things were just starting to feel normal again. I went to Billy's to see Jacob and Billy told me that Jacob went running. Over the next few months, I notice that Renesmee is growing quite rapidly, more than she should. In five months of her life, she looks like a one year old. And people are talking. They don't say anything to me about it, directly. But, I know they gossip about my daughter. They notice how fast she is growing. I take Renesmee to White Wolf to ask for advice.

"There is nothing you can do for her," White Wolf says, as she is sweeping her front porch. "Just let her grow into who she will be."

"You healed me. You can heal Renesmee, too."

"There is nothing wrong with Renesmee," she insists. I beg to differ, I think to myself.

"There's something else." The sudden change in the tone of my voice grabs her attention. For a moment I feel like she can read my thoughts.

"Come inside. Let's talk about it," she says. Her little house smells of sage and cinnamon. I sit at the table with Renesmee across my lap.

"She doesn't eat like a normal child. She won't drink milk."

"What have you been feeding her all this time?" Her eyes bore into me.

"My blood." White Wolf bucks her eyes in horror.

"You should not do that."

"But, she cries when I don't give her my blood. She'll die if I don't feed her."

"Now you have conditioned her to human blood. She is half vampire, but she is also half human. Blood spoils her. Stop giving her blood and force her to drink milk, but not from your body."

"She won't take milk."

"Keep trying. She eventually will." I have rented a house on the reservation for me and Renesmee. I go there with the shaman's words in my head, and I attempt to give Renesmee milk from a baby bottle. She refuses, repeatedly, crying hysterically. Then,_ I_ cry, not knowing what to do. I take a knife to my wrist, and slit it in the usual spot. I give my blood to Renesmee. She drinks, calmly. I become woozy by the scent. I pull my hand away, careful not to let her drink too much, for my sake. A year later, Renesmee is the size of a four year old. We celebrate her first birthday, anyway- Just me and her. I would have invited Jake, but he is nowhere to be found. She is sitting on the floor, with a slice of cake on a tray, waiting for me to hand her her present. I pull a babydoll from behind my back.

"Surprise. Happy Birthday, my love."

"Thank you, Mommy." Renesmee grabs the doll with her chunky hands. I dressed her in a white dress, white ruffled socks, and white mary- janes with bows on the buckles. She examines the doll. "What does it do, Mommy?"

"Nothing. You play with it," I laugh nervously. She takes one last look at the doll, then looks up at me and smiles with her rosy cheeks beaming bright. She sets the doll down.

"I'm hungry, Mommy." I sigh.

"Mommy's too tired to feed you, Renesmee." Her eyes are so innocent when she looks at me. "Have some cake," I say, my voice tired. She gives me a deadly serious expression.

"Mommy, you know I don't eat that," she says. Her tone sends a chill down my spine.

"Renesmee, please," I breathe. She frowns, gets up, grabs her doll by its arm, and storms out. I go into the bathroom and shove some B12 vitamins down my scratchy throat. I catch a glimpse of my pale, boney face in the mirror. That little girl will be the death of me. I find Renesmee outside on the swing set. The sun does not affect her at all. She has her doll and she has torn its head off and both of its arms. Now, she is working on a leg.

"What are you doing!" I dash over to her and take the doll. "I gave this to you as a gift. Why would you do this?" I demand.

"You made me mad," she says in a sweet little angry four year old voice.

"When you get mad, you talk to mommy, not take it out on your toys. Okay?" Renesmee nods in agreement. That night, I fall asleep in bed. I wake up to Renesmee sitting on top of my bed. I turn over and see her.

"I'm hungry, Mommy." –they are becoming my least favorite words. I don't move. She moves up and lays her cheek against mine. I sigh.

"I cannot give you anymore of my blood. I will die," I say.

"I don't want you to die, Mommy."

"Thank you. I appreciate that."

"-But, I must drink." Her voice chills me. Sometimes, I think she is much smarter than she looks or much smarter than she wants me to think.

"You will have to go to bed hungry, tonight," I say, regretfully. Renesmee never sleeps. She pretends to, sometimes, to pacify me.

"Mommy, come tuck me in. Please. And I want a story." I force myself to get up. I even manage to pick up Renesmee and carry her to her bedroom. I set her down on her bed and cover her with the Disney Princess sheets and comforter. I read her a chapter from our Disney Princess collection storybook and reach to kiss her when I am finished.

"Goodnight, Renesmee." She closes her eyes. I go to my bedroom and plop onto the bed. The next night, Renesmee says she is starving.

"Don't worry. I will get you something to eat," I promise her. I get in my car, with her in the backseat on the floor. She is hiding, like I told her to. I drive around, looking for a candidate for death. I pull up to a bar and get out. Renesmee stays inside. With a handy beretta hidden in my jacket pocket, I walk into the bar. Several eyes are on me, making me nervous. But, I have no time for nerves and I sit down.

"What will you have?" the bartender asks.

"Oh. Nothing. I'm waiting on a friend," I respond with a smile. I wait. Finally, someone approaches me and sits down next to me.

"Hey, there pretty lady."

"Hi." I turn towards him and we have light friendly conversation. I invite him to my place and he doesn't think twice. 20 minutes later, we are inside my car and on the road. I pull out my beretta and press it to his temple. He is shocked. "Don't… move," I say, with my other hand gripping the steering wheel. My voice is cold and impersonal. I pull over on the side of the road. "Get out." The man obeys. How far will I go to feed my daughter? "Get in front of me," I demand. Now, I have the gun to his back as he walks into the woods. I have my daughter with me, holding her hand while I hold a gun to a man's back with my other hand and bark orders at him. I kick him and he falls.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he whimpers as his body trembles. Renesmee lets go of my hand and sits down beside him. She smiles at him and strokes his hair, comforting him. Then, she grabs his head. He is confused. She bites his face and the man screams in horror. Renesmee feeds from him like a thirsty beast. I watch in astonishment. I am suddenly sick. I never noticed before how strong she is. She could easily steal my blood from me if she wanted. Why hasn't she? Maybe, she has told me the answer to this already:_ "I don't want you to die, Mommy."_ When she is finished, I rush her back to the car and tell her to get inside and duck her head. I pull a shovel from the trunk. I have well prepared for this night. I return to my daughter's victim and dig his grave beside him. This is strenuous work and I grow weaker by the moment. I catch his left hand twitching. He is not completely dead. Quickly, I pull the trigger and blow out the back of his head.

I roll his body over into the grave with my boot and I cover it with the earth's soil. There. I go back to the car and drive us home. I put Renesmee to bed. I wash my boots in the bathtub and remove my clothes to soak them in hot water. Then I have second thoughts. So, I take the clothes outside and set fire to them. There is no use in taking a chance on these things becoming evidence in a detective's locker.

In five years, Renesmee is almost as tall as me. She has the mature body of a seventeen year old. She looks more developed than I do and I am her mother. I have killed constantly so that she may live, and afterwards; I always cry in privacy. The love I have for her, it must be unhealthy. Yet, I cannot fathom the thought of killing her. With her, I am able to hold onto the memories of the past. And remember her uncles and aunts, and her father, Edward. I look into her eyes and I see myself and my father and mother, who I have not seen in years. Renesmee is a teenager and is interested in teenage things. She is friends with the Quiluete teens and quite popular in school. Her life is great, yet I sense something wrong, something missing. I don't know how, but I know she is hiding something from me. I have suggested to her to start drinking animal blood, and she laughed in my face. I hear her stilettos creeping in in the middle of the night. I hear the front door close. Most teens who have snuck out will sneak back in through a window or something- But, not Renesmee. She is so bold.

I am waiting for her in the living room with the lights off. "Where have you been?" I ask. I flip on the lamp beside me. She pauses.

"I was out with my friends."

"You never mentioned you wanted to go out. You never asked my permission."

"I realize I don't have to," she says, catching my eyes, trying to pull me into a trance, and maybe put me to sleep. I have learned that if I don't look right into her eyes when she stares this way, I cannot be persuaded. Her words puzzle me.

"What does that mean?" I demand.

"You are a mere mortal, Mother. I am much more. I don't need your permission. If anything, you need mine." My jaw drops to the floor. "Goodnight, Mother." She smiles, and heads straight to her room. The next day when Renesmee goes out, I sneak into her room. I am curious. She doesn't talk to me much, anymore. And that worries me. In her closet, there are expensive, designer clothing dripping from hangers and designer bags on the top shelf. Pricey shoes are lined up perfectly on the floor of the closet. Alice would be so proud. But, where does she get the money for these things? In her dressers, I find more clothes and start to lose interest. Then, a piece of paper catches my eyes. It is at the bottom of the drawer. I pull out all the clothes and discover hidden newspaper clippings… of unexplained disappearances and unsolved killings. Why does she have these? None of the photos of the dead I recognize. I do her killing for her. I told her long ago that I don't want her to do more than she has to for blood. She doesn't have to resort to murder. I do it for her to keep the victims quiet. But who am I fooling. She is a natural born killer. That is a fact. Psychopaths keep news clippings of their victims as some strange satisfaction. I hope that this isn't the same thing.

The next night, I prepare to go out and grab Renesmee's dinner. I feel her eyes on my back as I slip into my black leather jacket. "What is it, sweetheart?" I ask. Though motherly, I am cautious. My hand creeps to the gun in my side pocket.

"I am a big girl now, Mother. I can catch my own food. You don't have to do this. I know how much you hate it," she says.

"That is very thoughtful, Renesmee. But you made a promise to me that you would never murder for blood."

"I have kept my promise so far and I will never break it." I look at her, confused.

"Then, you need me to hunt for you."

She sighs, caringly."I will hunt without you." I give her a concerned stare. She reaches out and caresses my cheek with her warm hand. "You have to trust me, Mother." Then, she walks away. I think about following her- to see where she goes and witness exactly what she does. But a part of me deep down warns that is a very bad move. And I have no choice, but to 'trust' my mysterious Renesmee.


	3. Chapter 3

Part 3 the Light in the Dark

POV Renesmee

It is my favorite time of night- After midnight. It is technically morning, but it is still dark. And I walk around, unassumingly and unafraid. I get plenty of stares from curious night owls. For some, their curiosity may be their end. My long, wavy auburn hair flows over my faux -fur cheetah coat. Funny how I have so much mercy and love for animals, but barely any for my human counterparts, at least the ones I hunt anyway. I walk through the rez. I sigh as White Wolf is out. I don't care much for her. She knows too much.

"Renesmee," she starts, getting behind me. I ignore her as I walk. "Go after your destiny. Stop working for the Devil. Your mother made a mistake. You are old enough to correct it."

"My mother did what she had to do," I say, my voice even. I smile at the boy sitting on the steps of the recreation center as he looks up from his Game boy to take me in with his eyes. White Wolf touches my shoulder and I turn, giving her a mean glare. She freezes, terror in her dark brown eyes. Her heart rate speeds up, as it should- I am nothing to play with. I walk on.

"The light of Isis is inside you, girl! You can't stop her light from harvesting!" she yells at me. I roll my eyes at her words. They mean nothing to me.

The light of Isis is inside me, huh? The thought puts a smirk on my face and I have to laugh out loud. I remember being blessed as a baby by White Wolf, not well- but I know it did happen. I don't believe she was able to channel the White Goddess to turn me into a good, decent, moral citizen- if that was her goal. She is not that powerful a shaman. She cannot change my path. I am what I am. And that is okay.

A familiar heartbeat caresses my ear, but I cannot match the owner. Intrigued, I follow the particular thumping rhythm. It is different from the mortal heartbeat- and that catches my attention even more. I have heard this rhythm before inside the local shape-shifters, but this particular one I haven't met, yet… I think. The uncertainty is unbecoming of me, and I am quite annoyed at myself. Yet, the unknown gives me a very human rush of excitement. This is rare because I am never curious- always all-knowing beforehand. It's beautiful . And I indulge in the moment, as I know it will be brief.

As I close in on the rhythm, it changes, sensing my presence. A guy with a russet skin tone and a long black braid steps out of Lenny's Barbecue, a local bar and grill. We are eight miles apart and I can already smell the alcohol on his clothes and breath. As I close the distance, I think of how I want him to die. I think of my burning throat and how I will take great pleasure in satiating my thirst- and easing my pain. He is wearing a black shirt and blue jeans, no shoes. They rarely do. He is well built with muscles in all the right places, but they won't do him any good when I grab him by the neck and have my way with him.

He looks tired and bitter, and like he's been on a long journey that was not successful.

"Hello," I say, letting my sweet voice be carried to him by the light wind. Only his head moves, cocking in my direction. He is on guard, even though I appear a harmless young woman. I conclude he is always this way, never trusting anyone. He brings the beer can in his hand up to his mouth. When he realizes it is empty, he crushes it and tosses it to the ground. "Drinking your troubles?" I ask, casually. I want to seem friendly as possible. I love getting to know my meals before they die.

"What's it to you?" His voice is deep and harsh. He looks up at me and I get lost in the deep dark color of his eyes. They are familiar, but still I cannot place him. I try to think. I know I know him from somewhere.

"You don't seem like the drinking type. You're not sloppy enough. You don't really drink, do you?"

"I'm not an alcoholic, if that's what you mean."

"Yes. That's what I was trying to say. Where are you headed?"

"I don't talk to strangers," he mocks.

"I'm not a stranger. Well, I am, but I won't be for long."

He pauses. "Are you flirting with me?"

"It may seem that way, with the devil's juice perverting your mind," I say.

"What's your name?" he asks.

"What's yours?"

"Well, now. This isn't going to work if we can't trust each other," he says in a new playful tone. The alcohol has caused him to drop his guard a little.

"You are so right. Can I buy you a drink?"

"I'd like that." I take his hand and lead him back inside the bar –and- grill. We sit down at a booth.

"What would you like?" I ask, taking a wad of cash from my hand bag- money I collected off past victims.

"A Bloody Mary," he says with a cocked eyebrow.

I laugh. "Interesting choice." The waiter approaches, looking annoyed to see this guy back here. I suspect he was thrown out before. I wonder what happened and am sad that I missed it. "A Bloody Mary, please." I hold out the cash to the waiter. He grips it, but I don't let go of it just yet. "With extra blood," I kid. He pauses, getting caught in my eyes like a fly in a spider's web. I blink, breaking our gaze, and then he laughs. We laugh with him and he does not seem to be annoyed by my new friend, anymore. He takes the cash and heads to the bar to make the drink. My new friend leans back in the booth and studies my face. His expression softens as he takes me in, as if he has realized something.

"You have really pretty eyes," he says.

"Thank you," I say, although it does not come off as a compliment. He is thinking about something, now. Focused hard. At this point, I wish I could read minds- like my father could. I am very talented at reading people's expressions and body language and using it to determine their next move before they do. I suppose that is close enough. "What's got you so down?" I ask. I take his hand in the center of the table and lightly stroke the back of it. My touch comforts him and he starts talking.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he says. He smiles for the first time, even though it is a small smile. I smile back, encouragingly. I lean forward.

"Try me."

He starts talking. And with every word, my eyes widen. I am speechless at most points. The good thing is- I have finally figured out who he is. He proudly tells me a tale of vampires and shape-shifters, about the love triangle he endured with my mother and father. He goes on to tell how my father and vampire family met their demise. This particular information works as a catalyst for me. Now, I want to kill him so badly. I want his blood all over this dirty floor.

I control my impulsive thoughts. He could easily kill me if he killed members of my family and with no weapons. He did have help from the other shape-shifters, though. I wonder how he would do with me just one- on- one. He goes on to tell me how he left LaPush. He needed space from my mother . He was feeling guilty- not for murdering vampires, but for hurting my mother as a result. He left LaPush and wanted to give normal life a try. It obviously didn't go very well, since he is back here in LaPush. He is Jacob Black.

He is spoken of as a hero by the locals, even by my mother at times. But what is he to me? He killed my father. He tells me about it in great detail, which for him, is not wise. I don't know what I want to do with him yet, if I want to give my mother a chance to see him before he dies. If I want to kill him slow and painful and remind him of what he did to my family or if I want to let the past be the past. I know my mother had and has feelings for this person. Any vampire or half- vampire could easily tell, and it makes me wonder how my father dealt with it. I look at his empty glass. He is craving another, but I want to leave.

"Why don't we get out of here?" I suggest, flirtatiously. My eyes pierce him and he agrees.


	4. Chapter 4

Part 4 Testing the Waters

POV Renesmee

I escort a drunken Jacob to the lodge. He is so wasted, he can barely stand; leaning on the right side of my body for support. Good thing I am as strong as I am. Once inside the cozy little place, he stumbles to a chair in the waiting area which is fashioned like a living room. I make my way to the front desk to the smiling blue eyed man behind the counter.

"Hi," I say, catching his gaze. He doesn't understand why he can't look away. He shakes it off when I blink.

"Hello. Welcome to Burtier's Bed & Breakfast. What can I do for you and your friend?" He throws a concerned glance over at Jacob.

"We want to rent a room for one night," I say. "My friend is drunk and he needs somewhere to sleep it off."

"No problem. ID, please." He starts typing on the computer. I pull out a driver's license and some cash and hand it to him. The license is modified with a photo of me. It actually belongs to a deceased girl named Julia Hubbs, whom I met at the gym. We started out as friends, then I stalked her. I followed her, one night. I had her mind going paranoid to the point where she couldn't figure out where she was going or how to get there. She backed herself into a corner in a back alley and that's when I pounced. She never saw that it was me, though, who knocked her out. I didn't give her the chance. Her death was slow, but painless- as she was unconscious while I fed.

He hands me a key and a girl shows us to our room. It is a quaint little room with two beds, two dressers, a tv, and one bathroom.

"Partied hard, didn't he?" the girl says, watching Jacob's every intoxicated move.

"Yes. He's a real party boy… Karyn." I read her name tag. She smiles.

"I'm Julia." We shake hands.

"Oh, that's right. You never told me you had a name," Jacob says, his voice slurred. He trips over his own foot and face-plants on one of the beds. Karyn laughs quietly.

"You must get his type all the time," I say, probing her.

"I've seen way worse," she says. "This is nothing." She tidies up the décor on the dressers; moving the flower vases around and inspecting the flowers, even though they looked perfect as is.

"You work here long?" I ask, taking off my coat.

"No. This is a temporary gig. I'm here visiting my grandfather for a couple weeks. While I'm here, I decided I may as well earn some money."

I smile, getting the information I was wanting. "So where are you from then, Karyn?" I lay my coat across Jacob's passed out face.

"California."

"Wow. The sunshine state, I've never been there."

"It's great, much better than this gloomy town. It really gives me the creeps, especially at night. No offense," she laughs, nervously.

"None taken. I agree." She heads for the door.

"Hollar if you need anything."

"We will," I say. She closes the door. I turn to Jacob.

"Julia, huh," he says.

"Sure. What's yours?" I plop down beside him.

"Jake. Jacob Black."

"It's nice to meet you, Jake." He looks up at me with a wry smile. I stare into his deep eyes and get a little lost in them. To kill him at this moment would be too easy and frankly, quite coward us.

"Where are you from, Julie, if I may call you that? I haven't seen you around before."

"I'm from out of town and you can call me whatever you like." I lock eyes with him, again. His hand reaches out and lands on my thigh. He sits up and leans forward. I instinctively close my eyes as his lips meet mine and our tongues do a little dance called making-out. Just as I was starting to get the hang of it, he pulls away too soon. His expression is troubled. I decide to keep to myself that it was my first kiss. He is too drunk to care. "What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing," he lies.

"What are you thinking about?" I ask a better question.

He sighs. "A girl."

My lip twitches. Obviously that girl is not me. "Bella?"

"Yep." "She must have really done a number on you."

"She broke my heart and then some. I kill all her leech friends and she still doesn't want me."

"She's still mad at you for killing them?"

"I think so."

"You don't know for sure?"

"She has to be. Of course she is. What am I thinking, she'll never want me. No matter what I do, I can't win her over."

I smirk. "If you were trying to win her over, I doubt killing people she cared about would work."

He laughs. "When you put it that way, I agree. But these guys were no one's friends. They were bloodsuckers, evil incarnate." Jacob pauses. His expression becomes twisted and disgusted. "They had the nerve to stand by and let Bella suffer while a demon baby was inside her, killing her slowly and painfully. Then, claim to love her." He catches a breath. "In the end, I did the right thing, even if Bella never did."

"What did she do that was so wrong?"

"For starters, she started dating a vampire. Then, she wanted to keep his demon baby," he pauses. "I'll never understand her choices."

"What happened to the baby?" I ask.

"I told you. She kept it. It's with her. It's been what, four years? Renesmee would be in kindergarten by now... Renesmee," he mocks my name. I have to let out a little laugh. He sighs. "I'm tired." Jacob lies back down. Minutes later, he is sleeping hard like a baby. I watch him for a little bit. I now don't have the guts to kill him. He is too important to my mother, but it hurts that he hates me so much. I will pretend to be Julia for a little while longer. He seems to like her.

I step outside for some fresh air, behind the lodge. Karyn is there, smoking a cigarette.

"Hi."

"Hi," I respond.

She takes another puff and blows, staring me in the face curiously."That guy your boyfriend?" she asks. I shake my head no. She chuckles. "I had a boyfriend, once," she says, looking out at the dark sky. "That's three years of my life I'll never get back." Another puff, she takes. Would it be so bad to just kill her? She's already giving herself a head start with the cigarettes, practically asking for it.

A young woman vanishes in a small town unfamiliar to her. I can already see her story on the front page of LaPush Times. If it even makes it that far. I doubt it will make it to California. Death is an everyday and often occurance just as kidnappings and other bad things. Only a handful of those stories make the news. The chances of Karyn's disappearance making the news are very slim, considering what I know of her. But even if it does and people actually care, they'll never figure out how it happened. That's what saddens me about Karyn.

She chuckles. "Why are you so quiet?"

I shrug. "I'm just thinking."

"About?"

"About how strange my life is. It makes me feel different."

She laughs out loud. "Your life sucks, huh?" She looks me up and down. "That's funny coming from a girl wearing designer clothes and diamond earrings. I took you for one of those Hollywood types when I first laid eyes on you. You don't look like no poor, small town chick."

"Well, looks can be deceiving. You don't look like you're from California. "

"Well, I am," she barks. Karyn doesn't know I'm half- vampire, so to her, I'm probably coming off as a spoiled, over- privilaged, EMO brat. "I bet you don't have any real world problems. Did Daddy by you that fur coat?" she spits.

"My father is dead. And my fur coat is a fake."

She pauses, staring at me with her mouth open. "I am so sorry. I didn't know about your father."

"How could you?" I shrug.

She sees that I don't really resent her and she smiles."Sometimes, I can really put my foot in my mouth." She shakes her head. She drops her cigarette and stomps on it. Karyn pouts. Her face is hard with misery.

"Why'd you come here?" I ask, suddenly. She looks at me for a few seconds, then finally answers. "My dad sent me here. He always sends me away when he doesn't like my behavior. This time, it was to grandfather's house. I can't wait to get back home to my friends. They are the only ones who get me, you know." She pulls her strawberry blonde hair over her right shoulder."This place blows."

I was going to let her live, but she is hurting my ears with all her whining. No wonder her father sent her away. He got tired of her voice. "Goodnight, Karyn," I say, bored.

She looks up, offended that I would want to leave amidst her ramblings. I head back inside. Back in the room, Jacob is awake and he is sitting on the left side of the bed with his feet to the floor. He looks sober and unhappy.

"Hi," I say with a smile. He looks over his shoulder at me. "What's wrong, now?"

"Nothing," he says quickly.

"I like you, Jake. You talk too much when you're drunk." He looks like he knows what I'm talking about.

"Yeah, you should probably forget all that stuff I said. I was really messed up. It's all a bunch of lies."

"You mean all that stuff you said about vampires and shape-shifters was all lies?" I say, with mock surprise.

"Yep. Do yourself a favor and don't ever drink alcohol."

I hop on the bed and tap his shoulder. "Do you remember anything else from your drunken state?"

He laughs. "Not really."

I'm frowning. "Well, I think you'd be interested in knowing that we kissed."

"What?" He pretends it didn't happen.

"You kissed me, Jake." I cup his chin and pull his face closer to mine. He pulls away, abruptly. "What's the matter?" I roll my eyes.

"I can't," he says.

He sullies my mood. "Bella will never love you. You're friends. That's all you'll ever be." He turns and looks at me as if I just took a knife and stabbed him in the chest. "You should accept it and move on." A long pause later, "I like you, Jake. I feel alright with you."

He smirks. "Really?" skeptic voice. I nod and lean in to kiss him, but he stands up. I sigh. He keeps his back to me. "Is that why you brought me here, to seduce me? And then what happens?"

"I don't know why I brought you here, Jake. I thought we were getting along. I thought I was helping out my drunk friend-"

"We are not friends!" he snaps, finally turning to face me. That's when I see it, the doubt hidden behind his pupils. Cold fear ricochets off his body and bounces around the room. I stare at him, my eyes growing narrow. With a fake smile, I crawl off the bed. I reach out to touch him, but his words stop me cold. "Don't… touch me, _Julie_." I freeze. I put my hand down.

"I love the way you say my name with such emphasis." I reach out, this time not so lovingly. But, he grabs my wrist, tightening his hand around it like a boa constrictor. "Ow," I moan, sinking to the floor, overpowered. "Jacob, please stop," I cry. He lets go, looking confused. I nurse my wrist, massaging it with my other hand. Then, I crawl toward him quickly and bring him down to my level. His head hits the floor with a loud thump and I straddle him. He turns his head groggily to the side and I see a red spot on the floor. "You're bleeding," I inform him.

"I know you like that. Go ahead. I got nothing to live for anyway," he groans. It's when I realize I have been set up. How could I have let my guard down this much? I stare at him for a moment. Then, I pick up his head and bang it against the floor just once, really hard. He screams out in pain, and cradles his head in his hands.

"Why'd you come back to LaPush?" I ask.

"I wanted to know if it was true. I had to see for myself." His eyes are squinted shut. I probably put a crack in his skull.

"You came for me?"

"Yes, genius," he gripes. "I got word about this freaky girl who grew up in like four years. It gave me a bad feeling."

"And that bad feeling made you think of me?" I scoff. "Which village idiot sent you to kill me?" I grab his neck and squeeze. "Talk, damn it!"

He pries my hand open with ease. "You brought me here to kill me."

"No. I brought you here because you were drunk."

"I was never really drunk," he says, blocking my hand from grabbing him again. "I was pretending, just like you were pretending to be Julia."

"You knew Julia?" I ask. Then, I want to kick myself.

"No, I didn't know Julia," he says with an angry frown. "But, I think I know enough now to know that you're not a good person." His words immobilize me and he scurries from underneath me and inches up against the wall. I sit with my hands in my lap and my head down, looking harmless. "You don't fool me," he says. I look up with my eyes.

"Do what you came to do, Jake. You found me. Now, kill me." He just stares at me. "Look. I won't even move. I'm making it easy for you."

He sighs, deeply. As I suspected , and to my luck- he won't do it. "If you don't kill me, I'll kill you," I bluff.

"Then, go ahead," he says, hopelessly. Now, I'm confused. "I refuse to hurt Bella, again."

I force back a smile. "But, I'm the demon child you despise with all your heart," I mock.

"You're also Bella's daughter. I can risk getting a few bruises for her. My body will just heal, anyway."

"Of course it will. You're a shape-shifter. But, what does it take to kill Jacob Black?" I ask. He looks at me, bewildered, as I curl and stretch the fingers of my left hand. "How much pain does your body have to suffer, how much blood loss?" I creep toward him and sit on my knees. "I won't kill you for the exact same reason you won't kill me."

"Bella," we say, simultaneously.

"But, that doesn't mean I can't have any fun with my wolf man," I say.

"I don't care what you do to me."

"Good." I hold up his chin and glide my nail across his neck so fast that he doesn't even notice. "Jake, you're bleeding, again." His eyes turn wide and he touches his neck, seeing the blood painted on his hands. He makes a choking sound. He removes his shirt and uses it as a bandage to stop the blood from oozing out of his neck. It is coming out rather quickly. "Let's see how fast you heal from that," I say. He chokes on his own blood and I start to get a little worried. He tightens the shirt around his neck. If he doesn't die of too much blood loss, he will die of self- strangulation. Reaching out to help him would blow my cover. I have to stand there and watch… and pray. Will he heal or will he die? The wait is killing me. I hear my own heart beat speeding up. With his sensitive hearing, he can probably hear it, too. He stops making those awful sounds, which are usually music to my ears.

He sucks in a big gulp of air and sighs , he removes the shirt from around his neck. I can see that the slit I made in his throat is gone. He is still a bloody mess, though. I laugh, happily. But, he doesn't share my joy. We get off the floor.

"I see you like to play with fire."

"It is my favorite thing to play with," I respond.

"This isn't funny."

"Could have fooled me." I smile.

"I'm out of here," he says, his voice drained of enthusiasm. He heads for the door. But, since he is drenched in blood, he stops and goes into the bathroom. An hour later he returns and he is no cleaner than when he went in there.

"See, now you're just bloody and wet," I complain. "I'll go ask someone for cleaning supplies." I leave him in the room alone and walk down the hall to the closet. I confiscate two bottles of bleach , a mop, and a bunch of towels and I take them back to our room. We clean and mop the floor and the walls and anything else that got splashed with Jacob's blood. "I'm sorry, Jake," I say, watching him scrub his jeans to death with a spunge soaked with water and bleach. My heart feels heavy and I am not too proud to apologize.

"You're sorry?" he laughs. "You're not sorry. You could have killed me! You're a monster." I try to speak again, but no words will come out. I run out of the room and close the door behind me. My judgement, everything I know about myself is a blur. I go down to the first floor of the lodge, needing some more fresh air. I feel like I am suffocating. Someone is right behind me, keeping up.

"Hey, what are you still doing up?" It's Karyn.

"Not now, Karyn," I struggle for air. "Please." I grip the corner of the wall for support. "Get away."

"Julia, what's wrong?"

I reach out and grab her by the neck. I pull her outside so fast, she is disoriented, her expression lost. With one hand, I drag her through the grass. She is kicking her legs and wiggling around. I have a good grip on her, though. I _did_ warn her. I drag her to the nearest wooded area and slam her body against the ground so hard, she screams, her back arching. Her leg and her back are riddled with pain and fractures. She cradles her left shoulder whilst crying and pleading. I get down on my knees and open her up with my teeth. I am angry, and so she will probably not survive. One of my hands grips her mouth so tightly that her jaw breaks. She stops screaming. It only took my strength to kill her. And I cannot feed from a dead girl.

What a waste. I feel reckless and stupid. "Why didn't you listen to me?" I scream at the dead body. I sob. Clear, salty tears fall from my eyes. I have never cried before. I have never killed for no reason. I have always done it to sustain myself. I look up at the moon and I feel watched. It's uncomfortable. There is a body of water nearby and I drag Karyn's body to it. I roll it into the pond and hope that it is deep. I actually cared about Karyn. I feared for her for this very reason. Yes, she was annoying to me, but she didn't deserve this. None of them did. No one deserves to die so that I may live.

I sit at the edge of the pond and rock myself back and forth. My mind is filled with images of his sweet face. I realize what I am feeling is rage. And it makes me sad. My mother has never called me a monster. She has never said that word, to my knowledge. So why do I lose all composure when a man, who is practically a stranger to me, says it? I know the answer, as tears that I am unable to control stream down my face. It is because the truth hurts.


End file.
